


A Legacy

by Anonymous



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fraldarius Fucks, Incest, Is it a daddy kink if you call your actual father daddy?, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Parent/Child Incest, Penis In Vagina Sex, Shotacon, Sibling Incest, Squirting, Vaginal Fingering, brief mention of pregnancy, on the tail end of that one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:09:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24512866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The Fraldarius Family has a tradition spanning generations.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Glenn Fraldarius, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Rodrigue Achille Fraldarius, Glenn Fraldarius/Rodrigue Achille Fraldarius
Comments: 12
Kudos: 73
Collections: Anonymous





	A Legacy

If it hadn’t been for the nightmare Felix wouldn’t have dared show up at his father’s door. It didn’t make much sense, if he happened to think about it, not when Glenn was closer, safer, less irritating. Not for years has he even set foot within thirty feet of Rodrigue’s bedroom, and it would be many more if he managed to discipline himself, but for now? For now he is tired, he is lonely—he is scared. 

He pushes at the crack—quietly, slowly—until there’s a wide enough space to slip through. He’s gotten good at this part; Glenn is an even lighter sleeper than his father, and he’s never so much as stirred until Felix’s lips are on his neck, waking him with eager breaths. It’s revenge for all the times Glenn has interrupted his dreams, sliding a hand into his sleep clothes, softly running a finger through his slit.

He quivers—remembering—resisting the urge to recreate the touches. Not now. Not yet. He still shuffles, however, feeling damp from excitement and that slight retention of fear. He checks over his shoulder to be certain he closed the door—why was it open in the first place?—then startles when he bumps into something solid—a hand, but it isn’t angry, it’s...petting him? 

Felix leans into the touch without thinking, without seeing. It’s stupid, it’s dark, and he curses himself for allowing his feelings to lead him into the trap, though he knows he’d already given in as soon as his feet touched the cold hard ground of his bedside. 

“Son.” The rumble comes through arteries and bones to shake him by the heart, choke him before he contemplates his next breath. There’s too much weight to it—too much echo for a whisper. It defies the laws of the universe that one word could pull him in so fast and so far without him noticing. Within a blink his knees are pinning the loose satin gracing the mattress belonging to the Duke of Fraldarius.

Felix has never been invited into Rodrigue’s bed before but he knows what it means. He’s no longer so small he cries at the drop of a hat, no longer so innocent that kisses were something to giggle over. Now they came with a searing heat, by the high angles of his face, and the low dip of his waist, stomach flopping like a pancake—hot and ready to eat. 

Rodrigue is more contemplative than Glenn when he touches him. Unlike his brother, who uses one hand to prepare him and the other to prepare himself, his father brushes both of his thumbs across the wine-red dusting of his cheeks and waits there. Felix sighs in a way he doesn’t quite understand, not resignation, not relief, but it’s an invitation all the same. The trajectory of one of his thumbs leads it to dip into the corner of Felix’s mouth and he takes that too, raising a hand to wrap around Rodrigue’s wrist. 

Rodrigue, in turn, moves his body closer, easing Felix’s thighs apart, pushing him down. He moves the thumb in little circles, chuckling easily at the game of Felix’s tongue chasing it. Before long, he is imitating the swirls on Felix’s abdomen, under the point of every rib, tracing over the navel, curving at the hips until he stops at the soft squish of his little mound. Felix whines, bumping against the pressure that could relieve him, both hands gripping hard onto the sides of his father’s wrist at the first stroke. 

It’s such a short tease. Rodrigue’s skin on his is more static than anything, the promise of electricity with hardly a spark. He continues to methodically pet Felix, interrupting the humid air separating them while Felix sucks away in frustration. There is eagerness even in his patience, a vibration bouncing off the tiny lines packed into his fingerprints—leaving one never ending strand of DNA where they are connected. 

“Tell me, Felix, does he touch you like this?”

The finger creeps lower and Rodrigue pulls his thumb away to lift Felix’s nightgown for more access. It sinks all the way, with Felix immediately clamping down around it—panting, reaching for Rodrigue’s shirt to pull his body on top of him—so tight and full. 

He bites his lip to give away the answer without a sound. Rodrigue provides one anyway, a rough moan as he turns them over, resting Felix on his broad chest as he hikes his ass up to continue penetrating him. Felix whimpers, feeling the juices that have already betrayed his silence leak with the aid of his father’s finger, producing its own sickening music as it increases the pace.

“Think you can take two? I’m bigger than your brother, but you’re older now.” 

His hair is being tossed, twirled by one hand soothing it, the other readjusting their position so he can rub another finger against his swelling entrance—pressing in. 

It burns. It burns, and Felix shuts an eye because the stretch isn’t completely unfamiliar, it’s good enough to warrant rocking against, and his vision is hardly serving him anyway. 

_“Mm’ good.._.” He distantly recognizes his mumbling in the crowd of noises—Rodrigue is openly groaning now, sliding the head of his cock in between his lips, leaving it pressed hard against his little clit until Felix feels like he’s going to scream. The fingers curl and pound into him, drenching whatever happens to drift between them with small squirts of his orgasm. 

“That’s good Felix. Tell Daddy how it feels.”

Rodrigue stops to raise his chin. Even in the near darkness he knows where to find him; he’s discovered the perfect mold to make Felix his. Their lips together are their own mold, representing generations of Fraldarius to Fraldarius—the previous always present to instruct the next. Rodrigue’s hands are behind Felix’s neck, large enough to swallow him, and Felix doesn’t know which way he wants the wreckage of his body to sink. 

Rodrigue’s touches are light, and that’s what makes them all the more painful. Felix doesn’t like this, doesn’t like being treated like he’s delicate. He wants the tongue to rub against his nipples harder, wider, lips to envelop him in heat and pleasure; he wants Rodrigue’s teeth tearing his skin. 

He clumsily tries to fuck himself more—catching only air—desperation rising into a panicked sob. Rodrigue laps at him, demanding attention, tongue twisting firmer than the featherlight brushing of his hair. The tilt of his nightgown exposing his shoulder reminds Felix of just how hot and dizzy he’s become, but his mouth hangs open for the remainder of their kiss; he’s too weak by now to break away.

“Dad...” he sounds so hoarse; it’s disgusting, but he doesn’t have time to clear his throat, not with the way the fire was devouring him. “Daddy don’t stop...”. 

Rodrigue’s cock takes some getting used to, but Felix is determined. He’s at his father’s mercy, perched over it, nightgown removed—shivering through the fever. It’s not too big, he’s not going to cry, he’s too old for that now.

“One day I’ll fuck you deep into your pretty little hole.” Rodrigue gives him a few firm taps against his clit, before sliding down to his entrance again. “You want that?”

Felix shivers, nodding, bearing down even against the impossible girth. Two fingers was enough to bring him close to breaking but he’s a shadow of his former self if he doesn’t rise to the challenge. Surely he can take just a _little._

Just the head, he reasons fuzzily. It feels bigger than it is. His father would stop him if things truly got too far. He can do this. He can trust—

 _Oh._ It pierces him. It’s so sudden and painful that Felix wheezes. Rodrigue holds him there—holds him so easily that he could fuck into him like a doll—and Felix entertains the thought before snapping back to reality, breath hitching into the kind of sobs he thought were far behind him. 

“So tight, son. Wonderful. You like daddy’s cock?” 

“ _Yes_ .” He tries not to wail as Rodrigue moves shallowly inside of him. He wants him higher, deeper, as far as he can go. He can hardly control anything in Rodrigue’s grasp, it’s not _fair_. 

“Oh, you have no idea how much I want to fill you up.” 

_Fuck._ It hadn’t occurred to him, but now it’s all he can think about. Glenn hadn’t tried that with him yet, but he knows what it feels like coating the inside of his mouth—thick and warm—how much better would it feel inside his hole.

“Yes.” The cutting edge to his voice shocks even him. “Do it.”

Rodrigue seems hesitant for the first time, pausing and popping out, throbbing against him in a perpetual torture. Felix doesn’t accept the loss, rubbing against the shaft relentlessly until he’s squirting all over it.

“ _Fu-ck.”_ The crest of the curse cracks. Rodrigue takes advantage of the extra lubrication and pushes back in. It’s even tighter this time. Felix’s juices continue to come, dripping down the cock claiming him. He brings it in that additional inch stopping with surprise when it bumps against something that seems it shouldn’t be disturbed. 

“I shouldn’t.”

His father says it like he should, though. They both know this is how it is supposed to happen, how tradition ordains it. Why the hesitation now? Such a shitty declaration at a dire moment. Felix begins to protest even before Rodrigue retreats, grabbing his cock before it entirely slides out. 

“You bastard!” Felix has never felt so furious. He squirms, pushing down against the pressure until it winds him. “Stop...teasing.” 

“Or what, Felix?” Rodrigue sounds as dangerous as the glint in his eye under the abandoned streak of moonlight filtered through the windowpane. “Will you beg Daddy to come inside of you? Beg me to make you round?” 

Felix flushes scarlet. “Fuck you.” He snaps, and that not the only thing that does. Rodrigue’s hips snap upward. Felix’s thighs snap shut in response to the pain and the final, blissful feeling of being full of his father’s cock.

“I shouldn’t refuse such a request.” Rodrigue lifts his lithe body, waiting for Felix to catch his breath—regardless. It starts slow, and the drag is agony. Felix wipes tears from his eyes but otherwise remains stoic until Rodrigue releases his hold on his shoulders to let him sink down onto his cock. He can’t take him to the base yet, but _that’s okay,_ his father reassures him, he’s doing _such a good job_ already. 

Rodrigue’s hands drift down his front, pinching and rolling his nipples alongside the rolls of his hips until they are sore. It’s the most amazing feeling Felix has experienced and he quickly becomes addicted to it, drooling and mouthing embarrassingly at expletives that can’t quite manifest beyond the blood in his body. Glenn was good to him, always made sure Felix came at least once before he did, but it’s nothing like this—nothing at all. 

“O-oh.” His eyes widen, pupils popping at the edges of irises. Rodrigue has taken the liberty of moving their hands together, until their thumbs are resting on his little clit. “ _Oh.”_

“Rub yourself.” He demonstrates, using a few fingers to manipulate Felix’s hand in a circle. “Like that. Doesn’t that feel good?” 

Felix doesn’t deny it, and neither can he ignore what the state of his arousal is doing to his body. Rodrigue is rubbing him raw inside as he does his best to destroy himself from the outside, but he doesn’t care, because he’s close—close to _something—_ and he needs it. 

“Come again for me Felix. Goddess above, you feel so different than Glenn. _I…_ ”

Felix stops listening, cries, and lets loose. Little tremors wrack through him as Rodrigue presses his thumbs into the divots of his hips, stopping to run a hand over the bulge that pokes toward his stomach when he fucks him faster. He bounces Felix’s body on top of his cock like a sleeve, and Felix finds he loves it—loves the high of multiple orgasms drawing such a pleased reaction from Rodrigue, loves the power of his tight cunt squeezing the same cock that made him. He loves the knowledge that this moment was foretold from the very second he was born; all of the little experiments he participated in with Glenn have built his courage and the result was finally here. 

Rodrigue’s cock pulsates with life as it unloads, sloppy juices mixing with the seed, plugged tight up against Felix’s womb. Felix doesn’t follow him—not quite—but he shakes all the same, overwhelmed by the fullness and the warmth. Rodrigue knows— _of course he knows—_ he knows enough to push the bangs back where they’ve stuck with sweat and tears. He knows enough to sit up and kiss him, to give Felix another soft distraction from where all the oversensitive nerves are stretched. Felix feels… complete. Cared for. Safe. 

Rodrigue stays inside him for a while, occasionally moving, occasionally teasing the clit just to feel Felix’s walls tighten all the more and pull an extra throb out of him. Felix is too drowsy to complain, even when Rodrigue replaces the loss of his softened cock with his arms, pulling him in—back to chest.

“Stay.” His father insists. “I have no clue as to what brought you to me tonight, but this is the time the Goddess ordained for our union.” His fingers trace Felix’s body reassuringly, dipping between the thighs to feel the mess they created with a fond sigh. 

“I had a nightmare.” Felix admits, turning his head toward Rodrigue, though there’s little to see but the outline of azure and steel shining from sockets. The burn persists, uncomfortable enough to cause a little honesty to slip through. Rodrigue’s lips dance across Felix’s heavy eyelids, kissing stardust into the creases, igniting the veins. 

“Sleep. No dream will disturb you as long as I am here.”

Felix is already fading, his father’s request drowning in the encroaching pressure of unconsciousness. However long it holds him, he doesn’t know, only that he awakens to another bewitching scenario: Glenn’s breath heating his lips, his hands searching the marks their father left on his body until Felix is parting his thighs to allow them to stroke the head of Rodrigue’s cock, stiffening there. 

“Glenn. I’m sorry you couldn’t be here as Felix was for your initiation.” Rodrigue drags his greeting across Felix’s neck, shifting so his shaft is rubbing between the lips of his cunt while Glenn continues to pet both of them.

“Don’t apologize.” Glenn’s voice is deep with the dregs of desire and the ghostly tremors of the morning. He opens Felix’s mouth with a finger first, moving to rest the weight of his cock on his lower lip—waiting for him to take his first gasp of the day before pushing in. Felix closes his eyes as he closes his mouth around it, salty pre-cum dripping into the center of his tongue.

“Show me again.” 

  
  



End file.
